


Black/White

by Sangerin



Category: Die Another Day (2002)
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-24
Updated: 2010-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:57:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangerin/pseuds/Sangerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn't forgotten the way Verity relished a challenge, relished the thrust and parry of competition, whether on the mat or away from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black/White

'It's been a long time, Miranda,' said Verity. She stood proudly, a 1920s movie star with perfectly set hair, clad from neck to toe in black, tight against her skin.

Miranda closed the women's change room door behind her and approached her old fencing instructor. Under one arm, she held her mask in the crook of her arm, a familiar weight from years of training and competition. She belonged in this world of clashing steel, just as Verity did. Just as Verity's perfume belonged in her nostrils, a scent that seemed to settle about Miranda, sending her back to the nights they had spent in each others' arms and beds. Scent, after all, was a powerful influence on the memory.

She took a step, and then another. She stood toe to toe with Verity, knowing the image they presented, had there been anyone there to see it. Verity, all in black. Miranda, the ice woman, all in white. Queens of the club, facing off in the main fight room.

'A very long time,' said Miranda, leaning forward to press her cool pink lips against Verity's red ones. Verity had always been the showy one. Miranda knew that more could be accomplished by blending in.

It had been a long time. But she hadn't forgotten Verity's penchant for black kit; her desire to stand out in a crowd and bask in the attention. She hadn't forgotten the way Verity relished a challenge, relished the thrust and parry of competition, whether on the mat or away from it. Miranda knew the buttons to push, and knew the consequences she was seeking.

Miranda stepped back from the kiss, just enough to bring her hand to her epee. 'Do we fight?' she asked, raising one eyebrow, 'or can you think of something better to do?'

The corner of Verity's mouth quirked in a smile, and her eyes lit up. 'There are always better things for us to do.'

The sound level from outside the main room grew. From the changing room doors and from the side galleries that led to the grand staircase, club members wandered in. Dressed in full white fencing gear like Miranda's, they were eager to begin their practice sessions.

Verity put a hand on Miranda's waist and bent in close. Miranda let go of her epee as Verity whispered a question in her ear: 'You remember our place?'

Miranda nodded and stepped away, leaving Verity alone in the middle of the floor. 'Their place' hadn't changed in years, since Miranda had first come to Verity's club, fresh from school and slated for Harvard. The space behind the main room's luxurious wooden panels, used for trysts and hurried coupling for centuries, ever since the club had been built.

Miranda backed away from Verity, moving towards the high wood-panelled walls. She noted the paintings and counted the panels, and as the room began to fill with competitors and spectators, her fingers found the vital spot on the correct panel. It had been kept well oiled, and no one seemed to notice when she slipped through the opening into the hiding space beyond.

There was a light, which Miranda turned on, and she set her face mask down on the floor out of the way. Before she could do anything more – if there had been anything more to do – the door panel slid open again and Verity appeared.

'The bouts are starting,' she said, shaking her hair back from her face. 'It should keep them occupied for a while.' Verity began to take off Miranda's jacket. 'I'm glad you didn't opt for the unitard,' she said, offhandedly.

'I use it in competition, naturally,' said Miranda, who had her arms around Verity, undoing the laces of her high-necked corset. 'In practice I find it far too,' she paused as Verity pushed the jacket off her arms to the floor, 'constricting.'

Verity nodded. 'The two-piece kit is far more flexible,' she agreed, running her hands up Miranda's bare torso to her breasts, and leaning in until their lips almost touched.

Miranda reached up between them and rested her fingers against Verity's lips. 'That lipstick has got to go,' she said, rubbing it away. 'I don't need L'Oreal's latest shade on my fencing kit.'

'It's Lancome, and your kit is lying on the floor,' returned Verity. 'Now, stop talking, darling,' she said, the final word more of a challenge than an endearment.

Miranda obeyed and the mouths of the two women met. They kissed almost savagely, testing who was the stronger, the more determined. Miranda used her extra height to manoeuvre Verity against the wall, pinning her there. Her breasts pressed down on Verity's corset-covered chest, and Miranda sighed. She pulled back, bringing Verity away from the wall and reaching around to the fastenings of the corset that she'd abandoned to their kissing. The ties on Verity's corset were almost impossible to undo, but Miranda wanted skin-against-skin. Finally it was loose enough, and Miranda pulled it away to leave Verity naked to the waist. Verity's nipples reacted to the sudden rush of air, and Miranda brought a hand to one breast, and her lips to the other.

Verity slid a hand down Miranda's ribs and over her belly. She pushed past the waistband of Miranda's trousers, and played with the hair and flesh beneath. Her fingers danced against soft flesh, she slid one finger deeper and Miranda gasped into Verity's mouth.

'This is what you wanted, isn't it, my dear?' Verity muttered back, triumphant. 'I see you every day in the galleries,' the finger slipped inside, 'and you are as proud and cool as ice. Aloof. They call you the ice princess.'

'I know,' said Miranda between breaths.

'So, why come to me today? Why present yourself? It's not the first time you've managed to get away from your new project.' A second finger joined the first, and Miranda stopped paying nearly as much attention to Verity's breasts. 'You missed me, didn't you?' Verity flexed her fingers, and pressed the heel of her hand against the throbbing bundle of nerves. Verity shifted her weight, and now it was Miranda pressed against the wall. She needed the support as the shudders washed over her. Verity held Miranda and kissed her – on the mouth and shoulders, and the tops of her breasts. 'Satisfied?'

Sated, yes. But she had traded power for pleasure, and from Miranda's point of view, she had failed. To show that to Verity would be a greater failure still.

'Not in the least,' said Miranda, as she caught Verity's mouth in hers again. Verity let herself be pushed back against the wall, and Miranda felt the other woman shift her legs just a little further apart. Miranda smiled, and caught Verity's upper lip gently between her teeth before she broke the kiss. Murmuring against Verity's lips, she said 'Gustav will be here by now. He expects a bout. I must go.'

Verity slumped back.

'Can't be helped, I'm afraid,' said Miranda, picking her jacket up off the floor and putting it back on. Verity helped her, and then picked up her own top, pulling it on as best she could. Then she presented her back to Miranda for help with the laces.

Miranda leaned over and kissed Verity on the back of the neck. 'I'll be missed if I stay any longer. Surely one of the gentleman members will be more than happy to help you out with those, my dear.' She moved to the door. 'Men are so obliging to pretty women,' she finished. She picked up her face mask and opened the panel. She stepped through nonchalantly, scanning the room for her scheduled foe. As she saw him, she smiled. She always fought well when the glow of recent sex still lingered. Today she intended to fight particularly hard.


End file.
